Silent Night
by adoranymph
Summary: A Christmas present a little bit late, but better late than never! A bit of Christmas drabble I wasn't able to fit into the narrative of Love Sprung From Winter. Kiritsugu contemplates the arrival of the holidays in between attempts to rescue Ilya from the Einzberns, caught between memories of the past and trying to find reasons to enjoy his present.


**Silent Night**

Whenever it started to snow, it always drew Kiritsugu Emiya to the window. Everything else would fade away for him, as he would drop whatever he was doing—whether it be watching some program on TV with Shirou, or cooking something with Taiga—and drift over to the window.

Tonight was no different. This snow started later, in that dreamy hour of the night, when he'd woken from another dark dream where he'd tried desperately to reach Ilya, still shut away in Einzbern castle. Awakening with a gasp and clammy with sweat, he waited for the thundering of his heart to slow, and then he noticed the peculiar quiet of the house, the kind that only snowfall seemed to bring.

So he rose from his futon and slipped out in his robe, finding the fat flakes falling outside, their whiteness brightened by the full moon. On the ground out in the central courtyard of the Emiya compound, he could already see them sticking. It was going to be thick by morning, a world of white, glassy with ice.

He crossed over to the sliding glass door. He lifted one hand and pressed his palm to the cold glass, his thoughts whirling with the snow, remembering that castle locked in ice where he had, for what felt like only a moment, known happiness like he hadn't known since he'd been very young. That castle surrounded by that forest where he and Ilya used to play their walnut-finding game, the world always winter, always frozen. Always cold. But so warm inside that castle of the Einzbern, when it was just him, Ilya…and Irisviel, the wife he had loved and lost.

It was in this way that the snow had such a hypnotizing effect on him, as if spiriting his soul away for a twinkling. To an observer, he might've appeared to have become almost catatonic. It was nearly impossible at times for anyone to snap him out of it. He usually had to withdraw of his own volition, and by now, Shirou and Taiga had both learned to just leave him be when he got this way. Though afterward, upon reflection, he did feel guilty about it, letting himself abandon them that way, just as he did when he made his trips to that castle, far away in Germany, to make another attempt to break Ilya free as the Einzberns kept her prisoner from him.

Kiritsugu curled his fingers into a fist against the cold glass, pressing his knuckles against it. Then he touched his forehead to the glass and closed his tired eyes. It was getting to be more than he could bear anymore, how much being separated from his precious first-born child was chipping away at his soul. This was the second winter that was coming to pass without her, and he was losing more hope, quite as much as he was losing strength from Angra Mainyu's curse from the Grail, the curse now living inside him and killing him from within. Soon...he might not have it in him to even find the barrier that encased the Einzbern castle, much less make another attempt to break through it, even as he'd once been so good at doing such things before.

He had been so good at a lot of things before, but that was passing now as he limped from one day to the next in a body that felt more and more like it should belong to a man twice his age.

At last, his limbs growing too painfully stiff, he stepped away from the sliding door and turned to try and see if he could manage a little more sleep before dawn. Only to find Shirou out of his own room, blinking at him like a sleepy cat in the dark.

" _Jii-san_?" he croaked, and then his golden-brown eyes flicked from his adoptive father to the sliding glass door, seeing how it snowed outside, and he seemed to put two and two together. He might've been naive, but in other ways he was actually quite perceptive in his own way, in the ways that in the end, really seemed to matter.

"Oh. Shirou." Kiritsugu managed to work up a smile, despite how fragile he still felt inside. "Did I wake you?"

Shirou shook his head. "No, I was already awake. I couldn't get back to sleep." He glanced between Kiritsugu and the glass door again. "Were you watching the snow?"

"Hm. Yes."

"Oh. Well…does it help you feel more like sleeping?"

"Ah…I hadn't thought of that. I suppose so."

"That's good. I think I'll try it too."

Shirou padded over to the window, and Kiritsugu watched him. He watched and felt the ache for his daughter rise up within him again, felt it rise up like a scream desperate to tear out of his throat. For one weak moment, he thought he was going to break and fall to his knees, crying out like the day he'd killed Natalia, like the day of the Fuyuki Fire, when he had lost everything, lost more than he had realized.

But dipping into his old persona of a cold, mechanical killer, he managed to maintain his composure. Even so, it was strange to do something like that. He had worn that skin for so long, breaking out of it when he'd fallen in love with Irisviel and they'd had Ilya together. If he had to be honest with himself, that killer had always been a stranger, a ghost he had allowed to possess him. Nowadays, when the shadows closed in, he felt it whisper to him, tell him how much easier it had been when he had made himself feel nothing.

Then he'd hear Shirou or Taiga call his name, and he would pull free, eager to share in the warm light of their voices and their company. Though that came at a price, as the pain of being separated from his daughter, of how desperately he missed her, came with feeling that joy in being with this family he had found. Perhaps it even made it worse, that Ilya couldn't share in this happiness, no matter how much he wished she could.

So it was enough that he could snip the cord that tied him to his feelings, just long enough to get his bearings, before retying them as he joined Shirou back at the window.

He reached over and laid his palm on the back of Shirou's head. He felt Shirou react to the contact, and turn to look up at him, while he watched the breathtakingly beautiful white snow and moon, reminded as he always was of Irisviel's silver hair, those nights he'd feel it against his cheek as he'd nestle into her shoulder.

" _Jii-san_?"

"Hm?"

"Is it…okay…if we still go…?"

"Go…?"

"To the festival?"

"Oh…right." Kiritsugu reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The Christmas Festival."

He could feel Shirou withdraw beside him, and he opened his eyes and softened, working up his smile again.

"It's fine, Shirou. Of course we can still go." He knew he had to say something. Someone like Shirou would blush to even consider something like expressing disappointment in anything. Which gave Kiritsugu all the more reason to see to it that at the very least Shirou had the chance to enjoy himself at the festival.

Taiga too for that matter, since he'd invited her to come along, and she'd happily accepted, naturally. Though he'd admitted he'd found it curious that she didn't have a special someone to spend Christmas with instead, to which she'd gotten flustered and hastily changed the subject.

Even so, he did notice Shirou relax, even smile a little. Which made Kiritsugu feel a little better, and he showed it in an even more sincere smile. Then the two of them looked out at the softly falling snow again.

* * *

 _Irisviel reached over with her slender arm of ivory white skin and pointed to a picture in the book she and Kiritsugu were looking through. "What's that?"_

 _"_ _Ah, well, that's called mistletoe," said Kiritsugu, sitting with her on sofa in front of the lit fireplace in the Einzbern library._

 _"_ _Oh…. Mistletoe." Irisviel giggled. "That's another fun word to say."_

 _Kiritsugu chuckled. "I suppose so."_

 _"_ _And what do people usually do with that for Christmas?"_

 _"_ _Well they…ah…if two people catch themselves underneath it together…it's customary that the two of them kiss."_

 _"_ _Kiss?" Irisviel blinked at him with her great and bright red eyes, the eyes that had enthralled Kiritsugu from the first._

 _And then she beamed, and Kiritsugu felt the color rise in his cheeks in the way only Irisviel could make him do._

 _"_ _Ah, I've made you sheepish again," Irisviel teased._

 _But Kiritsugu still smiled, unable to help himself, and slid his hand in hers as he turned the page in the book of other Christmas paraphernalia with his other. As she giggled again and leaned into him, he felt himself grow happier as he was enveloped in her iris blossom scent. And yet he again he had that feeling that he could be happy if he could just stay this way with her forever…._

* * *

Kiritsugu blinked open his eyes to the light of morning brightened by the white snow outside. For a moment he didn't understand why he wasn't waking up in the bed locked within the icy Einzbern castle beside his wife—

And then he remembered, and his heart broke again.

He closed his eyes a moment, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then managed to find it within himself to sit up. He blinked at the morning light, still a bit dazed, as he seemed to be most of the time, but he remembered that today…today he was going to make sure Shirou was happy at the festival. He deserved so much more, but it was the least he could do for him.

And as he did every morning, he pulled on a black kimono, as if the mourning period for Irisviel his wife, her life given up for nothing to the Holy Grail, the last chance he'd had to save the world nothing more than a lie...as if that mourning period would never end for him. Given everything that her death entailed, it wasn't really all that great of a stretch to feel like it wouldn't be right for him to wear anything except black for the rest of his life, however long that might be.

To his surprise, he found Shirou already up and about, honing his cooking skills with making their breakfast. And Kiritsugu wondered sadly when it was that Shirou started to be the first one up instead of him. Every day, it felt like it got harder and harder.

"Good morning, Shirou," he said, moving into the kitchen.

Shirou, who still needed a step-stool to reach the sink, looked around where from where he was peeling a carrot with impressive precision considering the size of his hands. "Oh, good morning, _jii-san_."

Noticing that the kettle hadn't been put on for tea, Kiritsugu picked it up and moved to fill it with water from the sink. Shirou leaned out of the way to give him space, and the two of them looked at each other. They didn't say anything, but something that they saw in each other made the other realize he wanted to smile. Perhaps they had both woken up feeling fragile and wondering if they could be strong enough to simply be happy. It was a sad thing the two of them shared, both of them reborn in their own ways from terrible fires. But something about each other gave the other hope, it seemed, and Kiritsugu, for his part, felt lighter in his heart for it.

At breakfast, Kiritsugu watched his adopted son, for some reason thinking back on those weeks shortly after he'd taken him in and the poor boy had still been too traumatized to speak. But something had not changed from that time: Shirou still looked at him now and then as if seeking an answer from him. But to what he couldn't be sure, let alone what kind of answer he should be giving him.

Then Shirou noticed his adoptive father watching him and blinked in mild surprise. "What is it, _jii-san_?"

Kiritsugu was sorely reminded of moments when he'd be watching Irisviel or Ilya with solicitous affection, and they'd look up and notice, but he pushed past that. "Ah," he said, heaving a heavy sigh, but still wearing his usual smile. "It's nothing. Well...actually...I was wondering if you'd given any more thought to what you'd like to see today at the festival?"

"Oh. Um...not really but...I guess..." Shirou set aside his bowl of rice and his chopsticks and cleared his throat. "Well, there was one thing. I think there's this...tree there where you can write wishes on a small piece of paper and tie it to a branch."

"Ah. A wish tree?" Kiritsugu offered, raising his eyebrows and giving Shirou a more amused look.

"Right, that." Shirou rolled his eyes, as if to say, "Yeah, that's what I meant to say, of course."

Kiritsugu chuckled. "Go on. Are you saying you'd like to make a wish?"

"Yeah. That's what I was trying to say." Shirou spoke more to the table this time, and then hastily picked up his bowl and chopsticks and began hastily downing bite after bite of rice.

"All right then, I think we can fit that in," said Kiritsugu agreeably.

Shirou paused in his eating and stared at him. "You mean...you're okay with it? You aren't...well, you don't think it's...um...stupid?"

Kiritsugu blinked. "Why would I think that?"

"Well...I mean...you're always saying things like...better to put your hands to work to make your own miracles rather than throw useless wishes into a well." Shirou aimlessly poked at his rice with his chopsticks.

"Oh, I see. Well, perhaps that's a bit harsh of me to say. In truth, everything we achieve in life starts out as nothing more than a wish. If you want to write yours out on a slip of paper and tie it to a tree, who am I to stop you?"

"Yeah? Okay...well...just so you know, I don't plan to leave it all up to wishing. I'm...working at it too."

Kiritsugu laughed outright this time, and looked over his son with profound fondness. "Exactly what I would expect from my son."

Shirou's golden glow rouged a little, and he wordlessly buried himself back in his bowl of rice. And Kiritusgu thought bittersweetly of the meek sheepishness Irisviel had brought out in him, and he ached again to think how much he thought Irisviel and Ilya both would have very much taken a shine to Shirou, as he had done.

* * *

Shortly after breakfast, Taiga came over for accompanying them to the festival later. But first she had a Christmas cake with strawberries for them, and tucked it into the refrigerator for later. At the moment she had on a festive sweater and jeans, but she also had with her a Christmas kimono she planned to put on later for the festival. Kiritsugu had to admit he was a little curious to see her in it, since he'd seen her more often in a _kendo hakama_ than a kimono.

"Well, you'll just have to be patient, Kiritsugu-san," Taiga told him rather teasingly when he alluded to this sentiment of his. And then she giggled and bopped playfully at the mistletoe hanging near the sliding door from the courtyard that led into where the kitchen and main room of the Emiya house were, the same window where Shirou and Kiritusugu had been looking out at the snow in the wee dark hours of that morning. Then she skipped off to go change. "I'll be a bit, you see," she said over her shoulder. "After all, I have to do my hair too." She patted playfully at her ponytail.

"Do your hair?" said Shirou, folding his arms. "Since when do you do your hair?"

Which earned him a well-deserved smack on the back of his head. But it was a mark of how much Taiga Fujimura considered Shirou a little brother to her that she didn't hit him all that hard. Then she disappeared into the back of the house.

Then Kiritsugu pinched Shirou's ear in a half-hearted sort of reprimand.

"Hey," Shirou groused, in spite of himself, massaging his ear when his father released it.

Kiritsugu gave him a rather mischievous grin, the kind he used to give Ilya when they'd play their walnut game. "Be nice. What did I tell you about boys who make girls cry?"

Shirou frowned. "I don't think Fuji-nee was really crying. Anyway, she's always grumbling about how so many of her sparring partners hold back because she's a girl."

"Yes, but you wouldn't go yanking on her ponytail for instance, would you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Let's just say, if she were your Fuji- _nii_ rather than your Fuji- _nee_ , I'd still expect you to show a little more respect."

"Ah, I guess you're right," said Shirou. "So really, I shouldn't go around making anyone cry."

"If you can help it, yes," said Kiritsugu and was pleased to see Shirou smile. Then he picked up the remote off the table and switched on the TV, where they were showing a Japanese dub of one of the many adaptations of the novel _A Christmas Carol_ by Charles Dickens. Kiritsugu wasn't much for live-action films dubbed over with languages other than what they were originally presented in, and would have preferred the English version with kanji subtitles (if only to give Taiga's ear some English to listen to outside of their English lessons), and if only because it seemed only in 2D animation could it be possible to match those 2D lip-flaps so that the dialogue still seemed natural and not, well, dubbed over. But Shirou didn't seem to mind it so much, so Kiritsugu left it on. And the attraction to English Victoriana seemed to be a catching thing.

Something in Kiritsugu's heart closed up and curled into itself though when they reached the scene in Ebeneezer Scrooge's past when he fell in love with a young girl named Belle, only to let her get away a few years later when his pursuit of monetary wealth got the better of him. In this adaptation, they addressed how much he regretted letting her go, but that somehow hardened him to hold even faster to his principals of profit, like an addict who deals with losing those he loves in his life because of his addiction by retreating further into it. One particular line from Belle struck his heart like a string on a melancholy cello.

 _"_ _You fear the world too much, Ebeneezer."_

His thoughts drifted back to his own ghosts, when he had tried to push away Irisviel's offer of love, that there was no point to it when in the end she was going to have to die, as she ultimately did. But by giving birth to Ilya, the daughter who was meant to be the reason their love had meaning, the reason he would have for living when Irisviel was gone. Kiritsugu knew all too well that if not for the unanticipated presence of Shirou in his life, he'd have committed suicide by now. He ruminated on such things more often in winter these days, when the snowfall reminded him too painfully of what he had lost, as it had when he'd woken to it last night.

He glanced over at Shirou, his cheek in his hand as he leaned on his elbow on the edge of the table, and he saw that the boy seemed to pity this man who had thrown away true happiness out of fear of something so despairing as poverty.

And then he turned to Kiritsugu and said, in his own strangely sage way, "You know, I don't think he'd have regretted it, like Belle said, if he'd decided to keep her with him. I mean…sure they'd be poor…but they'd have each other, right?"

There was something so very…Irisviel in what he'd said that Kiritsugu, despite his sadness, couldn't help that smile of his that was a mix of both sad and happy. "Well, he's just another unfortunate fool who learned what he needed to just a little too late."

 _Like me._

Shirou stroked his chin thoughtfully, turning back to the screen. "I dunno if it was all _that_ late. I mean…in the end, he's saved. He turns good. Or…he turns _back_ to good. 'Cause deep down he was really good all along."

After all, Shirou had seen _A Christmas Carol before_. They'd watched it last year.

Kiritsugu chuckled, then thought sadly of the day his daughter was born, and how Irisviel had told him that their baby knew it was all right that he was holding her, because she knew he was a good man.

"Hm. Perhaps."

For the festival, Shirou switched out his usual blue kimono for a more festive red one. When he put it on, it occurred to Kiritsugu that something about the color red suited Shirou. Perhaps because red could be seen as symbolic of courage and strength, and he was proud to think that he was fostering these things in Shirou, in moderation of course. He was apprehensive of encouraging the boy too much to seek out dangerous pursuits at valor, though at the same time he struggled with his not wanting to hold his son back either.

As for Taiga, when she _finally_ came out from the back of the house all changed in her own kimono, she really pulled out all the stops to make herself more…girly than usual. She had her hair done up with a pretty gold pin set with turquoise stones and crafted in the shape of a peacock, a lovely silk fan hung folded from her wrist, and the blue and silver kimono she wore glittered like clear winter starlight. She'd even put on makeup. If Kiritsugu didn't know any better, he'd have thought that she was trying to impress a man that night.

Though maybe he _did_ know better, and he just didn't want to think about it.

For a number of reasons. All of which made his cheeks a little warmer.

Even Shirou had to eat his own words. "Wow, Fuji-nee," he breathed. "You look really pretty."

Seeing the boy blush as he did when he said that, Taiga knew he was being quite sincere. And she bent and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Why, thank you, Shirou. For that, you get your present early." She held out a package wrapped in blue paper and tied up with a silver bow.

Shirou took the present tentatively, always a bit sheepish about accepting gifts, but not wanting to hurt the giver's feelings either. "Thank you." Carefully, he unwrapped the gift to reveal a leather-bound book of fairy tales printed originally in Germany but translated into Japanese _kanji_.

It reminded Kiritsugu of the one he had once given to Irisviel as a gift, and he averted his gaze.

This didn't pass Taiga's notice though, and when Shirou went to go put it in his room, she approached him as Kiritsugu stood up from the table, trying not to let his disgruntlement over his suddenly stiffening limbs show.

"I'm sorry, Kiritsugu-san. Maybe that wasn't the best present for a boy like Shirou. I mean…fairy tales…." Now Taiga was the one reddening.

But Kiritsugu smiled sincerely. "No, no, it's fine, Taiga-chan. He likes those kinds of stories…knights saving damsels in distress. It gives him comfort. There's nothing wrong with fairy tales."

 _In theory._

Taiga however still looked contrite as she blinked up at him.

Against his will, Kiritsugu's mouth fell open slightly. She really did look very pretty. On the other hand, this just made him think of his and Irisviel's wedding night, when she'd put on the iris-patterned kimono he'd given her, the way the sight of her stepping out had stolen his breath with enchantment.

Then something brushed against his forehead, and he lifted his eyes to where the mistletoe hung between him and Taiga. Taiga followed his gaze with her own, and then the two of them looked at each other.

"I…." Taiga's voice however died in her throat as her cheeks turned, if possible, even redder, as a deep a red as the kimono Shirou had put on for the festival. She rallied though and tried again. "Um…it's the mistletoe."

"Yes. Yes it is."

At first Kiritsugu felt himself drawn to her, as he repeated the motions of a memory nearly forgotten, and Taiga, misled, followed suit uncertainly.

But no. She was too young. And anyway, he didn't feel that way about her, whatever mistletoe tradition was. And he seemed to remember a certain conversation he'd had with Irisviel about what a kiss meant to someone like him.

So, at the very last minute, he ducked out. Maybe it was cowardly, but he felt it was the more proper thing to do. He turned his cheek, and so Taiga kissed his rough cheek instead of his lips.

By the time she realized it, it was already done. She gave a small gasp and withdrew, hiding her mouth behind the sleeve of her kimono. Her blush had creeped up to her ears, but then she managed to dispel it with admirable poise. She cleared her throat, and lowered her arm, grinning like her usual self, though Kiritsugu didn't miss the faintest hint of fragility to it.

"You're such a sweet, Kiritsugu-san."

The way she looked at him then, with that laugh of hers, it stirred in his heart that older wound of how much she reminded him of his very first love, Shirley, and it occurred to him that in a way, he was getting that kind of first date he'd never gotten to have with her…with Taiga instead…even if he didn't feel that way about her. After all, he'd had sad daydreams like that, when he'd see a festival and think how nice it would've been to have been able to take Shirley there as a his girlfriend. Now of course, he felt that type of romantic regret where Irisviel was concerned.

Nevertheless, it compelled him to make amends in his own small way by returning her grin and offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

And Taiga colored again, but she seemed to maintain her composure much better than before. "All right," she said, taking his arm. "I guess we shall."

"Good. I'll get our coats. It's a touch chilly out."

Which made Taiga respond in nothing more than a perplexing peal of un-Taiga-like giggles, at which point Shirou returned from putting his present away and staring at the two of them with a dumbfounded expression.

* * *

 _"_ _Kiritsugu, what's all this for?" Irisviel could barely contain her excitement as she dissected the large cardboard box that had come in full of different kinds of Christmas and holiday greens._

 _"_ _I thought you might like to see some of these for yourself," said Kiritsugu, beaming at how happy his wife was. "After all, the Einzbern forest only has evergreen trees to offer. Here you can see a holly wreath, that sort of thing."_

 _At first Irisviel flinched at how prickly the holly leaves were, and proceeded to pick it up more carefully. "Oh wow. The berries are so red."_

 _The same red as Irisviel's eyes. Kiritsugu allowed himself the joy of seeing them light up the way they did._

 _Then Irisviel set aside the wreath on the library table and picked up the mistletoe hung from a ribbon. "Oh! This is that mistletoe you were telling me about."_

 _"_ _Ah yes. That."_

 _At which Irisviel got a rather mischievous look, and then she lifted the mistletoe up high between them and leaned up on her tip toes (it was kind of hard to hold it up high between them since Kiritsugu was taller than her anyway, even when she stood on her tip toes, so the mistletoe brushed his forehead). "All right then, come on. We've got to kiss then, now we're caught underneath, right?"_

 _Kiritsugu laughed softly and put his arms around her, tugging her close, making her a little surprised such that she let the mistletoe drop from her hand. "You don't need mistletoe to get a kiss from me," he told her quietly, and then he gently caught her lips in his. He felt her giggle and respond pleasantly to his offer, and in his heart he cherished this moment as one where he could forget who he was in the world outside and just love this sweet woman in his arms, and she could truly and honestly love him back as he never thought he could be loved until then._

 _With such warmth between them, it was a wonder that it didn't reach the snow and ice outside and melt it._

* * *

The street in the little district of Fuyuki glittered with gold and silver from all the lantern lights and the quiet snow that frosted everything. And the food stalls all smelled delicious with the hot delicacies that were cooking.

Taiga, for all the work she'd done to make herself look so pretty, still ate rather undaintily. But that was the Taiga Kiritsugu and Shirou knew and loved. Kiritsugu even bought her a little lucky cat charm carved out of jade. One of them should at least go around with a bit of extra good fortune, since he couldn't seem to keep all that much for himself.

"Merry Christmas," he said when he gave it to her, wrapped in tissue paper.

"Oh, Kiritsugu-san, you shouldn't have," she said with sincere modesty. But she thanked him and pocketed it, and then chose that moment to give him his present, which she had tucked away in her little satchel.

Wrapped up in red and green, Kiritsugu found inside the package a knitted scarf, and judging by the roughness of the knit-job—

"I made it myself," Taiga told him with odd haste. "Do you…like it?"

Kiritsugu held it up, admiring the colors of yarn Taiga had picked out: happy yellows and deep rich greens. He smiled genuinely and put it on, double-wrapping it around his neck. For its rough-shod make, it was really warm and soft. Though maybe part of that was just because Taiga had made it.

"I love it," he told her, and Taiga beamed.

Then Shirou appeared, nibbling on grilled beef on a stick and glancing between them. "Hey, _jii-san_ , where'd you get the scarf?"

"Taiga gave it to me." Kiritsugu raised his eyebrows meaningfully at his son. In other words: _be nice_.

Shirou swallowed, looking over the scarf, and then he smiled, and Kiritsugu realized that his son didn't need telling twice.

"I like that one too, Taiga." Then he tugged at his neck, and Kiritsugu then noticed the new scarf around his neck, but the blues Taiga had used matched much of his kimono that Kiritsugu hadn't noticed it at first. "You're really good at this."

Taiga tapped her two index fingers against each other in a show of meekness. "Oh, it's nothing really. I just thought Kiritsugu might like something to keep him a little warmer when it got cold."

"Hm." Kiritsugu gave her an appreciative pat on the head.

Then Shirou tugged on the sleeve of his coat over his black kimono and pointed. "Hey, _jii-san_ , there's a wish tree. We can make a wish on it."

So they followed the crowd to where a line had formed near the wish tree that was there just outside a shrine in the thick of the festival. Shirou finished off his grilled beef and then bounced with rather uncharacteristic impatience on the balls of his feet as they waited, though Kiritsugu was glad just to see him exhibit more normal behavior for a child his age.

While Taiga appeared lost in her own thoughts trying to think of a wish, Kiritsugu spotted a father and daughter up ahead at the tree. The girl was too little to reach up to the branches to tie her slip of paper to one of them, so the father picked her up under her arms so she could reach it. After she tied it on, she exclaimed, "Ta da!" and glanced round at her father, who laughed with her.

"There you go," he praised as he set her back on her sandaled feet, and then he gave her a little push forward as the two of them stepped aside to let the next person tie their wish to the tree.

Kiritsugu felt a little cold again, even with Taiga's scarf, thinking forlornly of Ilya. It was like that mother and daughter he'd spotted when he bombed the Hyatt hotel during the Holy Grail War, how much they'd reminded him of his wife and daughter. Even before he'd lost them both as he had, they had already been haunting him, trying to pull him back from the ruthless killer he had been forcing himself to be to destroy the few to save the many.

What was he even doing here, a man such as he, so empty of any wishes left? Even the wish that he still might be able to reclaim his daughter felt so empty and hollow.

He shivered in the chill of an oncoming malaise of despair.

"Hey."

Kiritsugu looked around and saw Taiga peering up at him with a frown.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"I…." Kiritsugu stole a glance at Shirou, who had his back turned to him as he stood on tiptoe to try and see the wish tree. Something about seeing his hopeful stance shifted something back in Kiritsugu. Swallowing and clearing his throat, he worked up a reassuring smile for Taiga and said, "Yes, I'm fine."

Even so, when it came to their turn, Kiritsugu regarded the tree with what he had no doubt was a shadowed expression, bordering on suspicion. He began thinking too much about the night the destruction of the Grail had burned away so much of the Shinto district of Fuyuki, incinerating so many unsuspecting, unprepared lives in a few moments of heat and death—including whatever family Shirou had had then. How before even that betrayal, he'd felt the cold sense of a knife in the back when he'd learned the true and corrupt nature of the Grail—that whatever wish he'd made, even for one of peace on Earth…the result would always come out in some form of destruction.

He curled his hands into fists at his side, his palms turning clammy.

Then his ears caught the peaceful melodies of a flute ensemble on the crisp night air, the lantern lights fluttering in a rise in the wind that swept through and then dissipated. Like a sigh. As this happened, the music recalled for Kiritsugu a memory of playing Christmas music for Irisviel (even if what was playing right now wasn't the same as what he'd played for her). That was when he'd been teaching her Christmas carols, and playing the piano for her, and she'd been niggling him to sing and he'd reservedly refused.

Though they'd never really officially celebrated the holiday at all, he'd just taught her about it and brought in some paraphernalia, like the mistletoe and the wreath, for her to see. When the time came about according to the calendar, they'd cheerfully revisit it in their own way, with a few songs and sweets, and with the birth of Ilya, he'd developed a bit of a doting habit, that, again, he'd been reserved about. But though his joy had been quiet, it had been no less radiant whenever he'd watch his wife and daughter open a present he'd given to each of them. Just because.

One particular memory stirred awake inside him, so simple but glowing with so much love that it warmed him from within.

* * *

 _Kiritsugu returned to the library after a long day in his personal office in the castle to find it empty, and, perplexed, looked out the window to see Ilya and Irisviel still playing outside in the snow in their fur coats and hats. He smiled and withdrew, taking off his jacket and draping it over the back of the sofa by the crackling fire before seating himself at the piano. Too restless to occupy himself with a book, he opened up the sheet music of one of the Christmas songs he'd taken out of the cupboard earlier and started playing, trying hard not to think of that time he'd painted the white keys of a piano red with bloodied hands when he'd decided to play in an abandoned music room after a kill._

 _Perhaps that's why he was moved to select Silent Night to play. The night itself felt wrapped in a blanket of tranquility, alone as he was in the library. More than that though, but his mind had drifted back to the day Ilya was born, and whatever anguish he had felt on that day when he'd forced himself to confront the fact that as wonderful as it was, he'd done so much in his life that made him unworthy of things like being a father and being a husband, moreover that he would have to be the one to one day kill his wife, he still counted it as one of the happiest days of his life. He couldn't deny that he had been happy and proud to hold Ilya in his arms._

 _Silent Night had that feeling to it, being a song that felt like it could have come from the point of view of the star that had watched over the nativity. Whatever anyone's faith, if they had faith at all, the scene itself still touched something tender in humanity, the simple miracle of a child's birth, and in such a humble place as a stable no less._

 _He was in the middle of it when he heard the door creak open, which stopped his playing as he twisted around to find Ilya bounding across the carpet over to him, fresh from being outside. Her little nose was even still red from cold, her violet blouse and white shirt rumpled from being bound so tightly in her coat._

 _"_ _Daddy! You're playing!" she exclaimed, bouncing over to where he waited with open arms to scoop her up onto his lap._

 _"_ _Of course I'm playing, I knew you'd hear me." Kiritsugu nuzzled her nose and she giggled. "Wow, you're still so cold! I think hot cocoa's in order." He looked up as Irisviel joined them, having closed the door behind her._

 _Irisviel beamed. "I think we can arrange that."_

 _"_ _Keep playing though first," Ilya insisted, kicking her small legs._

 _Kiritsugu chuckled. "Okay. For you." To Irisviel, he added, "And for you."_

 _Irisviel's smile widened and she leaned her elbows on the piano. She reached over, and he took her hand and ran the pad of his thumb over it, experiencing another moment where he felt he somehow loved her even more. Or felt like he was falling in love with her all over again._

 _"_ _Might we get to hear you sing tonight?" she ventured to ask._

 _Kiritsugu only smiled, perhaps a little sadly, and kissed her hand before letting it go. Correctly interpreting it as a kind "no", Irisviel sighed resignedly, but she didn't lose her smile._

 _Then Ilya wrapped her arms around Kiritsugu's other arm and tugged on it. "C'mon, Daddy. Play, play, play!"_

 _"_ _Okay, okay," he laughed, and as he began to play, with his wife and daughter listening in rapt contentment, it went on snowing outside, the three of them wrapped up, for the moment, in their own snow globe of happiness._

* * *

"Kiritsugu-san?"

At the sound of Taiga's voice, Kiritsugu jerked out of his reverie, blinking rapidly. "Oh. Sorry."

He noticed Shirou was in the middle of attaching his slip of paper to the wish tree, and Taiga had her own slip of paper ready. She held out a slip for Kiritsugu along with a pen.

"Ah, thank you."

"No problem." Taiga smiled, though maybe Kiritsugu imagined the relief.

Turning to the blank slip of paper, Kiritsugu held the nib of the pen over it, but his mind was quite as blank as the paper. Of course there were a number of things he could write, but even as he thought of them, he knew that it would be pointless, that they would either never come true or were becoming increasingly impossible with each passing day.

 _I wish had my daughter back._

 _I wish my wife was alive._

What kind of wish could he realistically make?

How sad that was, that he'd forgotten how to wish. Because he'd been shown what a lie to oneself wishing was.

And then he looked at Shirou and Taiga watching him, and realized he was holding up the line.

But looking at Shirou and Taiga, he suddenly knew what to write, and scratched it onto the paper before he tied it to the tree.

* * *

"What did you wish for?" Taiga asked Kiritsugu as she accompanied him and Shirou back to their house in Miyama Town.

Kiritsugu smiled a little more mischievously than usual, more like his old self. "Now, now, I can't tell you, or it won't come true," he teased in spite of himself.

"Ah, you're no fun." Taiga stuck her tongue out at him and flounced ahead to ask Shirou the same question.

Shirou looked round at Kiritsugu and then looked up at Taiga in that serious way that was particular to him. "Fuji-nee, I can't tell you. It's supposed to be a secret."

Taiga huffed, but she was smiling. "You two. Think you're so sneaky."

"Sneaky. That's us," chuckled Kiritsugu.

As they approached the house, Kiritsugu paused a moment. Taiga and Shirou stopped at the gate when they realized he was no longer there.

"Kiritsugu-san?" said Taiga.

Kiritsugu considered the two of them, Taiga and Shirou peering at him concernedly, Taiga's hand on Shirou's shoulder. "I'll just be a moment," he told them. "Don't worry. I'll be in. Then we can have cocoa with the Christmas cake Taiga made."

Something rare lit up in Shirou's eyes at the prospect of such a simple pleasure as hot cocoa and cake, and Taiga shared his anticipatory glee, and so the two of them headed through the gate, chattering perhaps a little more excitedly.

Kiritsugu was thinking of both them, and of his daughter too, when he'd said that, how many times he'd had hot cocoa made for her, much to her delight.

The snow fell softly, quietly. The moonlight made it glitter as brilliantly as it had the night before. Then the wind picked up, swirling up some of the snow into graceful arcs, reminiscent of Irisviel's and Ilya's hair.

And he thought of what he had written on the scrap of paper for the wish tree:

 _I wish for Shirou and Taiga's happiness._

It was the best he could do with what he had. But at least it was a wish he could manage. Perhaps it was as unfair a burden to place on them as it had been for him to desire the happiness of the entire world, but as a father, it was one that had always consumed him where his family had been concerned, whether it had been with Irisviel and Ilya, or with Taiga and Shirou. More than that, but it might be that what would make Taiga and Shirou happy would be things that maybe he wouldn't be able to give them.

But if he couldn't wish for that much, what else could he do? He couldn't really be a person if there wasn't _something_ that he wanted. Wants and wishes were part of what made a human being separate from other living beings, whether they liked it or not.

A blessing and a curse.

Even so, old habits die hard, and he would always do whatever he could to reach the blessing over the curse. It was just natural.

Feeling the chill, Kiritsugu finally turned from the snowy apparitions conjured by the wind and turned to join Shirou and Taiga in the warmth inside the home he had done his best to build. And for the time that no one was around to hear him, he sang, softly, under his breath, the words to "Silent Night".

Sang…as if Ilya and Irisviel might be still be able to hear him.

* * *

Taiga fell asleep on a couple of the spare pillows they used for sitting at the table, full of the sweetness of cake and cocoa, murmuring in her sleep about other yummy foods.

"Here," said Kiritsugu, feeling the time was right. He slid a package wrapped in gold with red ribbon over to Shirou, between the plates of cake and cups of cocoa. "Merry Christmas."

Shirou stared at him, and then reached for the package with that apprehension of his. Then he looked up at him again and said, "Well…then here…this one's from me." And he reached into his kimono pocket and slid a small package wrapped in green and silver over to his father.

Kiritsugu pulled it toward him. "Would you feel better if we did this at the same time?"

"Um, yeah." Shirou nodded.

So they did precisely that. Shirou withdrew his from the paper, a pocket knife that Kiritsugu felt would be useful for him to have, but a well-crafted one worthy of a present, the handle made of bone and inlayed with mother of pearl.

"Thank you, _jii-san_ ," Shirou said sincerely, looking over the blade with a quiet awe. Kiritsugu might've given him a real sword for all that Shirou truly admired the gift. Then he looked up, more concerned with whether Kiritsugu liked the gift he had given him.

Kiritsugu, for his part, didn't know what to say. Sat before him on the table, pulled away from the ribbon, paper, and tissue, was an origami flower crafted with red and gold paper. It was so simple, but it felt so full of life somehow, even as it sat so still. Something about it made him think that it might open like a real flower.

Carefully he picked it up and, admiring the look of how it sat in his palm, he smiled. Then he turned his smile on Shirou. "You made this yourself?"

"Yeah." Shirou started to fidget. "Do you…like it?"

"Hm." Kiritsugu reached over and ruffled his son's hair. "Of course I do. You made it, after all."

Shirou turned sheepish, but he grinned, happy it seemed just to see his father happy. "It'll be nice. Especially to have it when it snows. Maybe then… _jii-san_ won't look so sad."

For a moment, Kiritsugu couldn't speak for the tight lump in his throat. But he swallowed it and managed to say, a little hoarse with emotion: "You know what Shirou? You're absolutely right."

So Kiritsugu hung the flower on a string from a hook by the sliding glass door. Now they could see it all the time, even when it snowed. Like a drop of sunshine that would always live there with them.

Looking at it as it went on snowing now, Shirou wrapping his new knife in paper to keep it safe in his room, Kiritsugu felt renewed, at least for the moment, in the hope that he could still get his daughter back, and that he could still at least save some small part of himself.

Or maybe it was still a fool's hope, as much it was to wish for someone else's happiness.

Even so, the gift Shirou had given him this night, was more than Shirou himself could possibly fathom.

Admiring the shine of the gold paper in the moonlight flooding through the glass as Kiritsugu reached over and cupped the flower in his fingers, he willed that Ilya would be able to see it too. That Irisviel would, wherever she'd gone.

 _You see that Iri? Ilya? I promised you we'd see flowers someday…please see this one…please…._

He started humming Silent Night again, stopping only when he felt Shirou had reentered the room and was watching him. Their eyes met, and Kiritsugu felt himself turn shyly into himself. But with unusual tact, Shirou said nothing. He just smiled. Smiled like Kiritsugu had never seen him smile before.

Which encouraged a smile out of Kiritsugu.

Because that alone would always be more than enough for him.


End file.
